On my vacation recently I found myself at an antique store. This was not your run of the mill antique store, this place dealt more with old lunch boxes, magazines, photos, dolls. I saw things from a "Gunsmoke" lunch box to a "Mork & Mindy" doll set. These things meant something to someone once upon a time. As I walked down one aisle something caught my eye and I stopped and felt a twinge of excitement.
It was a photo of a blond haired girl of about 13 yrs old. It was in a medal oval shaped frame the size of a medium post-it note. On the back it was stamped as having been taken at the 1939 Worlds Fair in New York. No name of the girl, just the picture. As I held it my mind was filled with thoughts on who this little girl was. What was the situation of this picture being taken, and how did it end up here at this store. In my mind I could see this little girl walking with some friends going from exhibit to exhibit. Learning about what people envisioned the future to be for them. I saw this girl grab a friends hand as they ran to the picture booth. Sitting as groups, then one by one. Making faces, being serious, finally just smiling. Watching the frame being wrapped around these pictures they walked out taking turns looking at them.
Leaving for home, they each went their separate ways and placed their pictures somewhere in their homes. The living room, or more likely on the dresser in their bedrooms. But then what? That is where my mind went. 1939 led to 1941 and World War Two started. By then this blond haired girl would be about 15. Did she have fears as the war started? Could life as she knew it actually be in danger? 1941 led to her graduation around 1943. Did she have a sweetheart at this point? Did she sit at home writing letter after letter as he was off fighting for his country? Was she now a wife quickly marrying before he went off to war? The war ended in 1945. Was she a widow at 19 crying over the grave of her husband, perhaps holding his child?
My mind swirled with all of these unanswerable questions. Staring at the photo I wanted to believe that this little girl grew up not having been touched by the war at all. The 1940s became the 1950s. Her family grew, sitting around the Television enjoying post war life. The 50s became the 60s. She would now be a woman in her thirties. Her family growing. How did the 60s treat her? Where was she when JFK, MLK & RFK all were killed. Did she have any sons go off to fight in Vietnam?
The years went on and this little girl grew old and would now be around 84. I could not help but wonder if she was still living somewhere. I wished this little girl a good life and placed the picture down. That night I still could not get her out of my mind. How did that picture end up at that store? As I fell asleep I could see her family gathered around her grave all thanking her for their lives and grieving over their lose. A few of them in time would have to box up her things. Boxes for storage in an attic, boxes for using and keeping for everyday life, and boxes for giving away. The things in this last box over time were scattered to different places and this picture ended up at this store. 71 years after it was taken I happened along, picked it up and was in some way touched by it.
As she walked away from having that picture taken on that long ago day laughing with her friends her story was just beginning. I am sure it was filled with love, heartbreak, sorrow, tenderness, hardship, joy, sadness. Her story is still going. Perhaps right now someone else is holding that picture and wondering who she was. I am sure that their vision of her life differs from mine, but that does not matter. As long as this blond haired little girl is still being thought of her story will continue. I guess that is all anyone can ask for.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment